


What's my place? [Eng]

by Lunalalune



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Hurt / Comfort, Lemon, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunalalune/pseuds/Lunalalune
Summary: When he was with RHM, Sven felt good. He would have done anything for his boss, to support him, and to continue to get tender glances from him. But he couldn't deny it: it wasn't his right to be with the cyborg.
Relationships: Right Hand Man & Sven Svensson
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Henry Stickmin fanfic! The characters and the universe don't belong to me, please don't rely on this fanfic if you're looking for canonical information.  
> Enjoy reading!

The room was immersed in darkness, but it was not bad, not at all. Sven enjoyed being submerged in darkness, just to hide his condition, hiding the expression on his face. He sighed at a comfortable sigh, his breath was quick, he closed his eyes to hope to better apprehend the situation, to better feel the passion.

He was burning, his body was trembling. But it was a blessing, he liked the gentle shocks that went through his being. He swallowed his spit, plunged his head into the neck of his partner on whom he was sitting. His partner, who was just as silent, but just as horny.

They took the time to move. It was soft, pleasant. Sven could feel the rod moving inside him without feeling any pain. It was not their first time, and his partner showed a tenderness that the blond would not have guessed at first sight.

Right Hand Man, his superior, was one of those people who was quite cold and authoritarian. When he was giving orders, there was no discussion. Either you did what you had to do or you faced the wrath of the chief. Well, 'chief' was not the appropriate term. Rather, 'replacement chief'.

Their previous Chief, Reginald Copperbottom, had been arrested by the authorities several weeks ago. RHM had naturally taken over, and was now working for the good of the clan.

Many weeks he was the new chief, many weeks he and Sven shared some intimate moments, without there being any relationship between them.

There was no declaration, no love at first sight, or even real 'love' behind it. Nothing that justified what they were doing, except the simple desire to touch and be touched, to kiss and be kissed.

RHM pushed him back on the bed, dominated him from all his height, staring at him intense and feverishly, which almost made the poor blond man squeal, as he was completely at his mercy. Sven had few experience in this domain, he let his boss control the debate, dominate him, make him experience his so pleasant sensations.

The elder slipped his hands on the hips of the young submissive, raised his pelvis to better continue his movements back and forth. Sven put a hand on his mouth, biting his fingers, hoping to shut out the soft moaning that escaped from his lips.

He liked this feeling, this feeling that RHM was only looking at himself, even if it was only temporary. He liked to feel it inside him, to feel his movements in his intimacy, just as he liked to feel his fingers running through his body, to feel his mouth kissing him and sucking his skin. He liked to be the center of his attention, to be covered with love and tenderness. He liked, in those moments, to feel that he existed. To feel like he belonged, to be there for someone.

Sven was a Toppat member since a few years ago, had joined the Toppats when he was just about his majority, and stayed loyal to them until today, when he would finally be 26 years old.

He had been so confused in his youth, and he still was. Constantly searching for his marks, his place in this world that seemed far too big, far too imposing for the tiny being that he was.

He felt out of his place. He had never been. From the moment he was born, from the moment he had grown up in a family that was struggling to get up, he had felt out of place. Because it was true, he shouldn't have been there, he had been an unfortunate accident, and that accident had become an additional mouth to feed for his parents.

His parents didn't beat him, no. They weren't one of those horrible people who put all the blame of the world on their child. They had tried, really, to take care of him, to raise him, to love him.

But how can you love something that only makes your life harder?

Sven remembered his mother's looks. The looks of regret. She didn't regret having had a child, she regretted that it had come so early, much too early, when the couple wasn't ready, when both parents were already working themselves to death just to pay the taxes.

Sven had no other memories. Nothing but the loneliness that had enveloped his heart every day in that miserable house, in a cold silence. His parents didn't speak much. They didn't even argue, just glances full of meaning. Always the glances.

Everything passed through the eyes.

Himself had begun to communicate in this way. Simply looking, staring, scrutinizing. To understand the emotions that shined in his blue irises. But not everyone was able to read the eyes.

He didn't keep anything from school. He had many flashes of himself, sitting in class, in his own corner. He was sure he had already played with other children, but nothing memorable enough for him to talk about it years later. He had never linked up with anyone, had only passed between groups of friends, or been alone. He was just...there, not there. People didn't run away from his presence, they didn't beg for it either.

His absence as well as his presence didn't change anything for anyone. This simple observation was painful, heavy to bear. This impression of existing without really doing it, of being there only to add to the burden of his parents and nothing else... He would have liked to be one of those people with a strong personality, with a crazy charisma, who knew what they wanted, where they were going. Or even, he would have liked, in spite of his erased personality, to have an objective, a goal to reach, something that would push him to say to himself "I have to hold on, I have to make an effort, I exist to reach THIS goal".

But he was none of those things. There was no particular passion, nothing that could make him have any kind of click on his life goals. School didn't help, the fact that he was in such a hurry all his schooling on his life choices. "Think hard," they told him. "According to the curriculum there will be no turning back, be careful not to block your options, be careful to go in a branch that offers work, be careful to...".

But he was just a kid and even today, at 26, he was still searching for what he wanted to be, where he belonged. But the hardest thing at the time was not being pressured by the faculty. No, the hardest thing was to see the students around him who knew what they wanted to do, who already had ideas, to see some of them who had set themselves a profession and had planned all the diplomas they had to have, what subjects to take, what courses to take…

Sven had opted for what seemed to him the most judicious at the time: lawyer. His only motivation was his family, the idea that he could finally prove himself useful, the idea that he could have a big salary and, potentially, that he could protect his parents every time this would be sent to trial...

But lying to himself was useless. He was just in high school, but his disinterest in learning had led to a drop in his grades. Despite this, he had fought, fought between teachers tired of their work, fought against his hazardous sleep, fought against his deficiencies due to his poor diet, fought against looks, fought against the ever-increasing pressure...

He hadn't even graduated from high school.

He had been standing in front of the panel for long, long minutes. He had forgotten about the tumult of the crowd, the students who were pushing and shoving to come and read the results, before screaming joyfully or grumbling about passing the rattrapage.

Sven was not even registered for the rattrapage. His mind was trying as hard as it could to assimilate that yes, his name was there, in that dreaded column: " failed ". A simple six-letter word, a simple word printed on paper, and yet his already dark world crumbled around him.

It was the last time anyone saw him. By the time he was reported missing to the police, three days had already passed. All they found was his bag, containing his phone and his ID.

Sven had run away. He had run away from this life, mostly by terror. He was afraid of his parents' looks, the same looks he had received all his life. He feared the remarks, he feared what he was going to become. He had failed in his career before it even began. His only opportunity to be "someone" had been wasted.

He was useless.

However, after eight years, he was a member of the Toppats, in his superior's bedroom, moaning in his arms, feeling as if he was the most precious thing in the world. RHM was delicate, patient. He wasn't someone who only thought about raw sex. He watched out for his sensitive points - although in truth there were too many of them, Sven's body was an erogenous zone all by itself, a simple touch made him feel hot.

Comfortable sighs, wet noises, were furtive but present, accompanying their sweet sex, their desires reaching their culmination. Sven cambered himself, stopping biting his hand to groan louder. He caught the sheets in a convulsion, while the satisfaction of feeling full made him even hotter.

Right growled softly, closed his eyes, stopped moving while he remained deep inside his partner, letting himself be reached by the pleasure, and let the seed fill this warm intimacy.

They let a few minutes pass, none of them moving, each one enjoying the silence that was simply disturbed by their breathing. If RHM, although slightly blushy, managed to keep a minimum of control over himself, it was not the case with Sven who was panting, his eyes semi-closed and humid, his mind completely misty as every time they had sex.

Right bent down, came tenderly to fetch his lips. A kiss that took only a moment, but which pulled the blond man from his torpor, before making him blush completely and hide his embarrassed face behind his arms.

His boss smiled with amusement at this reaction so childish and adorable. He didn't pronounce a word, just gently retreated, always with the idea of not hurting him, of prolonging this moment of tenderness. He lay down beside the youngest, naturally came to surround him with his arms and bring him closer to him, hugging him against his still warm body.

They didn't need to argue. Sven buried his face in his neck, his eyes closed, drowsy now. They just felt good, relaxed ... at his place.

And that was the problem: it wasn't his place.


	2. Chapter 2

The alarm clock woke him out of bed at eight o'clock, like every day. Sven carefully opened his eyes, taking the time to reconnect with reality, to leave his sleepy state. He reached out his hand, looking for the bedside table, which he found without difficulty, and came to turn off the alarm. The bedroom was once again immersed in silence. He sighed softly, turning on his back, passing a hand over his face and then into his hair.

He was alone, that didn't surprise him. As a Chief, Right Hand Man woke up much earlier, and his cyborg condition allowed him to sleep less. So, Sven had his boss's room to himself.

It was still hot, and the smell of their lovemaking stayed with him even after the night was over. He blushed, hiding his face behind his hands and sighed again. It was so good, as it always was. So good, so exciting, that he was impatient for their next time, and regrets the empty place next to him.

He turned to look at the rest of the bed, the place where his boss had slept. He dared to move closer, plunging his face into the pillow that still smelled like him. He inhaled, his heart beating, hugging the pillow, imagining himself hugging the cyborg.

He would have loved to get up at the same time as him, just to have a 'good morning' to bed, as a continuity to their ebat of the previous day. But Sven couldn't wake up so early, his mind never heard the first ring, probably because of his exhaustion, and RHM was always careful to be discreet when he woke up.

Another sigh. The blond boy let go the pillow and forced himself to get out of bed. He shivered when he left the comforter, his naked body confronting the room temperature. He hurried to the bathroom, taking a quick shower, without washing his hair to not lose time in drying it.

When he finally got clean, he took care to dress carefully, brushed his hair properly to look presentable, looked for his hat while he activated the filter ventilation. He had wished to aerate in a different way, but unfortunately it was difficult to open the windows in space.

He was still amazed that the Clan was able to complete the space station project. He couldn't believe that he was actually living in space, in orbit around the Earth. It was unbelievable, completely crazy, and at the same time terrifying. Sometimes he thought the worst, wondering if there was some kind of malfunction that would trap them all in space forever, with no possibility of getting food and water.

He was an anxious person, frequently making decisions on impulse when he lost control of his emotions. It was a default that he was trying to remedy, but it was complicated…

He finally found his hat, plus the documents he had been working on since yesterday. It's true he had initially come to discuss with his chief about the report of this week, but as usual, they finished in bed.

He was still blushing and had a little smile on his face as he remembered his boss's look and gestures. RHM could really be sweet and attentive, nothing compared to his coldness when he was giving the orders.

He took a breath, looked at his reflection one last time, and finally left the room, ready to start the day. As he stepped out into the corridor, he saw two colleagues passing in front of him.There was a moment of hesitation, when the pair looked at him in more detail before simply greeting him and continuing on their way.

Sven lowered his eyes.

He knew his relationship with RHM wasn't a secret. There were hundreds of people in the Clan, the walls were thin and gossip spread quickly. Moreover, it wasn't the first time he came out of his chief's bedroom. In fact, they had been caught kissing in the corridor before.

But the looks were still painful. Of course, there was a part of the clan that didn't care about their relationship and didn't attach much importance to it, after all Sven wasn't anything special, he was just a Toppat like many others. But another side took too much interest in him, and he didn't know what was worse: the ones who judged him coldly, who saw the relationship badly... and the ones who took an interest in it like it was a show, a sitcom that people laughed about and commented on every little detail.

Sven disliked being in the limelight. He prefered to be discreet and enjoy a quiet life, without receiving, again and again, the glances of others.

He walked to the communication center quickly, preferring to focus on his work, checking recent reports again and again. His anxiety forced him to be meticulous, carefully sorting, verifying, and re-reading everything over and over again to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

He arrived in front of the door, entered without thinking of knocking, too concentrated on what he was reading:

"Burt, did you...?" he asked, before freezing when he looked up at his document.

Burt Curtis was the head of the communication center. He was a little older than him, only about two years old, and Sven had become close enough to call him 'friend'. And at that moment, his friend was slumped at his desk, eyes half closed, his head tilting dangerously because of tiredness.

Sven passed a hand over his face, blowing deeply:

"My God, did you only sleep last night?"

Burt blinked, rubbed his eyes, trying to stay awake. He looked at the blond man, shrugged his shoulders, before grabbing his cup which contained a cold coffee base, which he drank with his characteristic unemotional expression. Sven bit his lip, disliked to see him like that, and came closer to put a hand on his shoulder:

"I thought you weren't on the night service?

\- Sleepy is sick, he couldn't replace me.

\- So you made your work hours and his, and now you have again to make yours? Burt, you need to sleep or you're going to collapse!"

The one with the headphones sighed: if it depended on him, he would sleep a long time ago. But... :

"No, if I do that, the timing's going to be worse and the boss will yell again."

Sven grimaced. Burt was the link between the chief and the rest of the station, all the communications passed by him, so he frequently was the one who had to deal with RHM's temper when things didn't go according to their plan, and that happened many times with the government, which was always getting in their way.

“... Are you sure you're going to survive the day?" the blond insisted anyway. If you collapse, the situation will be worse...".

Burt nodded gently, and his silence only worried Sven a little more. It's true that his friend wasn't very talkative, but this time it was worst than usual. However, he couldn't imagine himself screaming at him to force him to go to bed, simply because he knew Burt, he knew he was a reasonable adult.

“... You'll go to bed if you really don't feel well, won't you?"

Burt looked at him. He had one of those rare looks that Sven could endure, a gentle, sympathetic look that didn't try to judge him but to reassure him:

"Yes, I promise."

The blonde rubbed his neck, not completely convinced, but enough to stop insisting and go back to work :

"Well, then... I was coming to pick up last week's renderings."

His friend nodded his head again and rummaged in his drawers. He wasn't as perfectionist as Sven, but his desk was a minimum in order, which meant that he could find the documents and give them away without a hitch. The blonde man thanked him and was about to leave, but was stopped by Burt who grabbed his arm:

"Sven, have you eaten?

\- Sorry?

\- The breakfast. You didn't start working until you'd eaten, did you?"

The blond pouting was the answer he needed. Burt let him go but scolded, this time revealing his irritation:

"Maybe I skipped a night of sleep, but you skipped too many meals. Yesterday you even missed lunch.

\- It's not like I'm doing it intentionally, it's just that I don't see the time passing.

\- That's the problem with you. Because you're always moving from one spot to another, you don't have anyone to check on you and remind you to take breaks."

Sven looked away, disliking this criticism, but Burt reassured him almost immediately:

"I don't want you to faint either. I'm going to make sure I get a good night's sleep, so make sure you eat right, okay?"

The youngest watched him and was surprised to see him smiling a little. He returned the smile, answering a frank "okay", before leaving him alone and going back to his occupations. But he made a detour to the refectory, to take a small snack that he nibbled on the way to his room. He didn't have his own office and worked in his quarters, where they had installed a computer that was as secure as the rest of the equipment on the station.

He settled down immediately, the documents in front of him, reading them carefully while his hands tapped on the keyboard. Concentrated on his task, he let himself sink into his privacy bubble, not thinking for a moment to watch the time. He liked it when he was so easily in trance, that he could work without any effort, just letting himself be guided by his automatisms and his mind which was easily carburated.

He relaxed when he finished his last line, finally allowing himself to abandon the keyboard and slump down on his chair, and stretched himself with the satisfaction of having accomplished something. The feeling of a job well done was the best feeling of all. He let out a profound sigh, tried to relax his fingers by closing and opening his fist several times.

His eyes finally focused on the right corner of the monitor, and he grimaced as soon as he saw the hour. Already noon? He had spent his morning on the file. He hurried to print the document. The printer started, making that little noise that Sven had become accustomed to and had learned to appreciate over time.

He went to his bathroom to wash his face with water, before coming back to check that the printing was going well. He always feared a paper jam, or an ink smudge. He was not afraid of not having enough resources because he was always careful not to run out of anything, but he was afraid that the machine would have a technical problem because he didn't know how to fix it.

Long minutes passed without any accident. Sven waited for the last page before passing the sheets in review, checking that the impression is good, that the font of writing had not screwed up in the middle, that the layout remained identical to that on computer. Once this was done, he sat down on the bed to reread the whole document quietly, afraid of having missed a mistake. He would lose nothing by checking again, checking his turns of phrase as well as the statistics. This document would be classified as 'official', he could not afford to leave any mistake in it.

One o'clock had sounded when he finally decided to leave his room. He had put the pile of papers in a plastic envelope, which he had meticulously closed and held tightly against his chest. He hurried down the hallway, turned at an intersection and collided with another Toppat coming the other way: Carol Cross.

The woman, surprised to be jostled, raised an eyebrow as she looked at the blond:

"Sven, where are you going so fast?

\- Oh, Carol, sorry. I have to make a rendering to the chief."

She looked perplexed, looking at him from head to toe, which made the boy uncomfortable. She tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear, sighing:

"Do you want me to give it to him instead of you?"

Sven wondered:

"...Why would I want that? I can give it to him myself.

\- Because the others will probably still talk shit when they see you walk into his office."

The young man's face turned livid:

"...I'm just going to give him my rendering.

\- I know, but your relationship is quite... visible. We don't know what you do when you're together.

\- But we...

\- Sven, honestly I don't care, you can do what you want, it's none of my business. But I hate hearing others talking behind your back, it's boring."

Sven bit his lip, feeling his throat tightening as he imagined what kind of insults could be said about him. He lowered his eyes, squeezing the envelope tighter against him.

"Why don't they just mind their own business?" he asked. "We're not doing anything wrong! I don't have any more privileges just because we... because we do things...!"

Carol thought it was very cute that he didn't dare say "sex". Yet she remained serious when she replied:

"I think most of them are just bored morons. They're picking on you but it could have been anyone else.

\- ...what exactly are they saying?"

The girl's expression changed. She looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable and hesitant. Sven looked up to observe her, trying to understand her change in attitude.

"...Carol?

\- ... I don't know if you should hear this. It's just bullshit.

\- What are they saying?!"

Sven was starting to lose his patience. He felt nauseous. Carol regretted bringing up the subject, remembering that her young friend was quite sensitive and took things very personally. He wasn't like her, just ignoring insults.

She sighed:

"Look... don't take him seriously, okay? They just say that ... well, you're a kid taking advantage of the situation. Which is completely false, you are one of the most honorable members of the clan.

-... What do you mean, taking advantage of the situation?

\- Well...you know...taking advantage of the fact that Reginald is no longer here to get closer to Right Hand Man."

Sven froze. It took him a few seconds before he spoke in a pale voice:

"I don't see the connection ...?"

Carol rubbed her neck with the horrible feeling that she was making the situation worse:

“... It's not a secret you know, that Reginald and Right had a relationship, before Reg got arrested?"

No, it wasn't a secret, and yet Sven hadn't thought about it for a while. Past the shock, the anger resurfaced, the irritation became stronger. He passed Carol, continuing on his way without hiding how upset he was:

"W-Well, fuck them!" he exclaimed, but his voice had shaken.

Carol watched him walk away and called herself an idiot. She should have kept her mouth shut, she knew she should have...

Sven himself was angry. He was angry with himself for insisting, he would have preferred not to know what could be said about him. In fact, he didn't know what was better: to remain ignorant or to know.

He felt sick to his heart. Was he really perceived as an opportunist? It wasn't as if Reginald and RHM had officially revealed themselves as a couple! Maybe they were just having an affair. Otherwise, RHM wouldn't have wanted to have sex with him, would he?

Sven tried to reassure himself. He hadn't done anything wrong, he hadn't tried to seduce his boss. It was a natural progression. They had started with simple caresses, trivial touches. To touch the hand when they passed documents to each other, to near the arm when they sat next to each other, to exchange glances which had become envious with the passing of time.

They had never really discussed about anything other than work. Since he had been a member of the clan, Sven had watched RHM from some distance, admiring him and feeling as much loyalty to him as he did to Reginald. He worked for them and kept a low profile, taking orders and carrying them out wisely.

But Reginald had been arrested, RHM had become the boss, and something had changed.

RHM was feeling lonely.

Maybe it was because he knew about loneliness, but Sven had sensed this change coming from his boss. Well, he wasn't a genius either, he hadn't guessed it at first glance.But he had seen how RHM was looking for contacts, even if it was just a quick touch. He had seen how RHM was looking for company, going around checking everyone's work and giving orders. It had been strange because the boss was not obligated to move, he could have just stayed in his office and passed by Burt to deliver all his messages.

Finally, the tension had finally made them crack. One day Sven came to his office, gave him some documents, and as always, their hands touched each other. But the scene, so anodyne, had broken, had been the element too much, the trigger.

Sven couldn't remember who had kissed the other first. What remained clear in his mind was the feeling of having been devoured, caught up in sensations he didn't know. He remembered the stuff on the desk that had been swept away, his own body lying on the furniture, the warmth, the desire, and then the penetration that had melted him.

He and RHM had never talked about it. They didn't talk about their sexual activities, they didn't talk about the physical relationship that linked them. They would meet without a word, have sex together without a word, then separate, always without a word. Maybe because they didn't need to say anything. They liked to give each other attention, to forget everything around them, to forget their responsibilities. They enjoyed this simple relationship.

So why did others allow themselves to comment? How dare they say that he was taking advantage of the situation? Sven indulged himself and his boss's desires, they didn't bother anyone, they just kept doing their job properly.

"... I take this too much personally..." he breathed as he ran a hand across his face.

The look of others frightened him. It was always the same thing. It was always the same problem. His life would have been much better if it wasn't for the others, always the others. It was the others who judged him, the others who thought what was right or wrong, the others who chose what was normal or not.

He blew. He was tired, he was hungry. Burt was going to yell at him when he found out he had skipped lunch again...

He entered his superior's office, only realizing too late that he hadn't knocked. This bad habit would play tricks on him one day, he knew it. It was impolite to enter without being allowed, and then it was the best way to surprise a scene he shouldn't be watching. But the poor Sven didn't do it on purpose, he was always too preoccupied with his thoughts to think about good manners…

Luckily he didn't seem to disturb RHM, who was standing at his desk and seemed focused on a map. Sven stayed silent, watching his boss at a long time, without his presence being noticed. His boss was as handsome as the day before. He had that strong aura, that charisma that made the blond boy shiver. His gaze wandered intensely across the map, and Sven guessed that he was thinking about a strategy for their next operation on Earth.

Nevertheless, he dared to come closer. He would have liked to look at it longer, but the rest of his work was waiting for him. Sven cleared his throat, loud enough to indicate his presence.

RHM looked up in his direction.

The blond man hoped he wouldn't blush, his boss's gaze still had the power to destabilize him. Shyly supporting his gaze, he handed him the envelope:

"Here is the complete report of the communication section, Chief."

The cyborg went around the desk, took the envelope with his mechanical hand.Sven tried to ignore the contact of his cold fingers against his own, the same fingers that had run through his body the day before. He remained as impassive as possible, while his boss opened the document cover and took a look at the papers, starting to read it without a word, without appearing to be unsettled by the short contact.

Was he as neutral when he was with Reginald?

Sven froze at this thought, which he tried to forget as quickly as possible. He didn't have to think about it, it was none of his business, it didn't matter.

RHM took him out of his thoughts:

"I'll read this and come back to you during the day."

Even his voice was destabilizing. Serious and profound, Sven regretted not hearing him more during their lovemaking.

"I always remain at your disposal, Chief," the blonde simply replied, before turning around to go to his next task.

He would still try to make a turn through the refectory, not being able to continue his tasks on an empty stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to translate as well as possible, I hope the story remains understandable and enjoyable to read!


	3. Chapter 3

_ The explosion had been terrible, so violent that he had been projected to the other side of the room, smashing against the wall before falling back down. His head had hit the floor so hard that he was completely stunned. He had no notion of what was going on around him, a shrill sound was coming through his ears, his body was not responding. _

__

_ "KARL!" _

__

_ A scream in the distance, a silhouette beside him, a hand on his trembling body. He was having trouble breathing. The silhouette came to caress his cheek, called out to him again, the hoarse voice close to crying: _

_ "Karl... we did it... you did it...!" _

__

_ The injured man tried to stay awake, but it was difficult. He couldn't even respond, and his comrade worried to see him in this state, worried to lose him so close to the goal. _

__

_ "Don't do this to me, stay with me! We're going to take care of you! I beg you! _

_ \- ...Reg..." the only word he was able to answer. _

_ The silhouette hugged him, unable to hold his sobs any longer: _

__

_ "W-We won... Terrence is dead... s-so stay with me... stay with me... stay with me...!" _

__

_ But he fell into the cold darkness, the heavy silence. _

He felt that he was being shaken, but what really pulled him out of his sleep were the anxious calls of a familiar voice:

"Chief! Chief, wake up! Chief!"

The person had been calling him for a few minutes already, having started whispering, but now he was almost screaming, his throat tied. RHM opened his eyes, encountering darkness for a moment before his cybernetic eye switched on and scanned the room. He was in his bedroom in the orbital station in the middle of the night ... with Sven.

His young partner fell silent when he saw the cybernetic eye emitting a light. He seemed relieved to see him awake, something his superior didn't understand. There was a short silence, during which RHM stood up, passing a hand over his face as he tried to make full contact with reality. He looked at Sven again, who was still watching him, but what left the boss speechless were the tears he saw in the blond man's eyes.

“... What's going on...?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

Sven gasped slightly, not expecting him to speak to him, and suddenly he felt completely confused, hesitant, because he had never had the opportunity to talk to his boss while they were still in bed. However, he stammered, still worried:

"...you seemed to be having a nightmare...". “

RHM didn't hide his stupor. A nightmare, him? It hadn't happened to him for a long time... He already couldn't remember what he had dreamt, but it was true that he had this strange feeling in his stomach, this stifled fear that he didn't know the cause of.

Sven was surprised to see how well he was doing with his disorder. Usually his boss was in control of his emotions, it was difficult to see him in a weak position, so seeing him with such a fragile look gripped his heart. He turned around, reaching for the water bottle at the bottom of the bed, then returned to his superior, naturally sticking to his arm while holding the bottle out to him.

The older man took it, shivering when he felt Sven's naked skin against him. He had already had the opportunity to touch this pale and terribly soft skin many times before. Sven was soft from all points of view. His skin, his voice, his look... even when he was annoyed or angry he remained soft. He wasn't the kind of imposing person whose personality crushed others.

A bit like Reginald.

RHM looked at the bottle without really seeing it. Reginald had been the chef for a long time, but despite his pretentious attitude he was still a gentle chief. When he was angry he wasn't scary, probably because unlike Terrence he wasn't a tyrant who would kill someone at the slightest annoyance. To tell the truth, Reginald was the opposite of Terrence: he preferred to avoid conflict, to solve problems by fleeing. Many called him a coward because of that, but RHM liked that attitude, it was always better than a leader who stupidly threw himself into battle without thinking about the risks.

RHM was out of his mind when Sven's hand was placed on his and his gentle, hesitant voice was raised:

"You should drink a little... it would make you feel better..."

The cyborg nodded his head and opened the bottle, taking a few sips before sighing, closing his eyes and feeling a bit more calm. He took a breath and then looked at the younger one again. With his left arm clutched to Sven, RHM used his right arm - the metal arm - to come and stroke his partner's blond hair.

He saw Sven shiver and close his eyes before he came to rub himself against the hand, looking for a caress. The cyborg smiled, amused to see him act like a small animal in need of affection.

It wasn't the first time he had made the remark. Since he had known Sven for several years, he had already noticed how Sven could be receptive to the slightest attention. The way his eyes sparkled when you complimented him, his jumps when you touched him, his habit of prolonged contact, his embarrassment that came so quickly that he never knew how to react when you were kind to him.

He didn't know what kind of education the blond guy may have had, but he just seemed to like the attention very much. But it wasn't a desire to get attention like people who are too self-absorbed, it wasn't a desire to be a star, to be famous. It was more of a shy desire, a desire to receive love, and not just to receive curious and admiring glances.

RHM continued to pet the blonde hair while he thought about it. If his relationship with Sven had evolved this way, it was because the blonde was very receptive. Right wasn't a very sociable and talkative person, he wasn't comfortable with the idea of flirting with strangers or even just co-workers. The only person with whom he allowed himself to be a bit of a gambler was Reginald, because they knew each other well, as they had a very developed relationship.

When Reginald disappeared suddenly, kidnapped by the government, RHM didn't know what to do. From that day on, there was only an immense emptiness in him, an emptiness that was growing, like a black hole trying to swallow him up. He had lost that comforting warmth, that source of support that he had had with him over the past few years. And beyond the lack, there was the pain, the guilt, the terrible thought that he had been weak, that he had been unable to protect his leader, his friend, his lover.

"...Chief...?"

Sven's voice brought him back to reality one more time. RHM crossed his worried blue eyes again, and that's what made him realize that he had tensed up and stopped stroking the blond hair.

Sven was his lifesaver. He didn't talk unnecessarily, always went straight to the point, did an impeccable job. And most importantly, as RHM had said... Sven was gentle and receptive. He had, gradually, known how to get closer to him, by contacts always more pushed. Contacts that had evolved all the way to the bedroom. And Sven didn't brag about it, no he didn't brag about having "the chief of the Toppats" in his bed. He hadn't considered RHM as a trophy but as a real lover. He was understanding, not a toxic person who forced him to have sex whenever he wanted.

And suddenly the cyborg froze. No, Sven never asked for sex. On the contrary, it was always RHM who made the first step, who would come to kiss him, caress him, and finally drag him into his office or bedroom.

The youngest didn't feel forced, did he? He always seemed to like what was going on between them... If he was against it, he would have told him, pushed him away of course.

But now this doubt had crept into the older man's mind.

"...Sven?"

As he called out, he looked at him with big eyes while blushing, surprised to hear his name so suddenly, especially pronounced in such a way by his leader.

"...y-yes...?" he stammered.

\- ... You have the right to push me away. Even if I am your leader, I don't want to force you to do what you don't want."

Sven seemed even more surprised, even confused, and answered almost immediately:

"You don't force me to do anything!"

RHM felt him clench his arm harder, and this time he was surprised to see the youngest becoming livid:

"Really, really you don't force me, I do it because I want to! S-So..."

Sven lowered his eyes when he realized that he had raised his voice, suddenly finding himself embarrassed, his voice becoming weaker:

"...so...please don't say that anymore..."

The chief looked at him for a few more moments, then returned to caress his hair. But then his hand slipped to come and graze his cheek, before he put his fingers under his chin to push him to raise his face and smile softly:

“... Okay, I won't say it again."

He came to kiss him tenderly, and was delighted to feel his young lover respond while huddling closer to him.

* * *

RHM didn't need an alarm clock. He would set one every day at the same time, but would wake up at least 10 minutes before the alarm sounded. He was an early riser and his cyborg enhancements helped him do that.

So, as he did every morning, he opened his eyes quietly, stood up, and looked at Sven, who was still lying next to him. The younger one was rolled into a ball, deeply asleep, barely reacting to RHM's awakening.

The chief smiled, held out his hand to come and caress his cheek. Sven made a faint rustle, curled up and wiggled around a little, trying to get the unknown thing that was touching his face to go away. This time RHM laughed frankly:

"A kitten," he murmured as he withdrew his hand, unable to help but make the comparison.

He stood up, turning off the alarm clock before the alarm sounds. His young companion was sound asleep, but he didn't want to risk waking him up so early. He worked a lot and deserved to rest.

The cyborg went to get dressed, taking care of his outfit, tying his tie easily, then taking back his hat. He looked at himself in the mirror, rolled up his sleeves, then grabbed a comb and brushed his moustache. Satisfied, he came to check that the second alarm clock was on - so that Sven would be on time - and then picked up the clothes that had been left on the floor the day before. He folded them and put them on the commode, put his partner's hat on them, observed the room one last time and left the room when he was sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

His first job was to go around the station, checking that everything was all right, that there hadn't been any problem that he hadn't been informed of. He took the opportunity to make sure that the guards' rounds were respected, that no Toppat was missing at his post, while sometimes looking through the windows to observe the vastness of the galaxy that stretched around the station.

He was proud to have successfully completed this operation, to have led the clan into space. But he would have preferred so much that Reginald was at his side to celebrate their success. After all, wasn't it Reg who had conceived this plan, who had worked on it so hard?

RHM clenched his fists. He was the one who should have been captured. He should have protected his leader, his friend, he should have saved him and sacrificed himself as he had always promised. It was Reg who should have been on that station, at the head of the clan, not him, not RHM.

The cyborg disliked being the leader. He considered that he wasn't deserving of that title. He was able to give instructions, of course, he could take responsibility. But taking care of a whole clan? Was he really capable of that? It was necessary to think of the prosperity of the clan but also of the protection of all the members. The Toppats were a big family, being the chief was somehow being the father, and this idea made Right dizzy.

"Right!"

The cyborg stopped, turned his head to see Hanz joining him. He greeted him, not surprised to see him standing at such an hour. Hanz and him had known each other for years, they had joined the clan in the same period and were very effective when they fought together under Terrence's orders.

Hanz was a reckless Toppat, the kind of man who was fearless and would go straight for the kill, always ready for dangerous missions. He was known for his throwing skills - and in fact, people were afraid to approach him because of the spear he carried everywhere.

RHM, although he didn't say anything about it, was worried about his comrade who had been suffering from insomnia for a few years. This insomnia was playing on his personality. Hanz wasn't a gentle person, but exhaustion made him more cold and angry. Fortunately, he remained friendly with RHM, probably because he considered him a friend.

"Did you talk with the Earth Team?" Hanz asked.

\- No, not yet. Why, has something happened?

\- Yeah, news of Reginald. We finally located where he was locked up."

RHM stopped. He stared at Hanz in shock, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Seriously? Locked up? Is he alive?

\- Take it up with Earth Team."

The cyborg didn't wait, rushing through the corridors unable to hide all the feelings that were upsetting him. If it was true, they were going to be able to save him... They were going to bring Reginald back to the station, safe and well! RHM's throat was knotted, trying not to get his hopes up for fear that karma might play a trick on him. When Reginald had been captured, he had completely disappeared, the clan hadn't managed to get any news. The most optimistic thought he was locked up in a high security prison, the most pessimistic thought he was dead.

RHM had tried not to think about it, to pretend it didn't affect him. But he had hoped for news, he had hoped, while being afraid to learn that his lover was indeed dead.

But Reginald was alive?

He rushed into the communication area, slammed the door, which caused a startle from the Toppats present. He approached Burt directly, who had started his service only half an hour earlier.

"Curtis, any news from the Earth Team," he asked.

Burt massaged his neck as he watched the leader:

"News goes fast..." he commented as he turned his eyes to his screen, before tapping his keyboard. "Well... Yeah, they reported to us just an hour ago. In fact, it looks like they found the boss... well, Mr. Reginald.

\- I want a full report. The time, the place, who's watching, how to get there, what teams we can mobilize ... I need it within the hour to establish a strategy!"

Burt sighed. Even though he was happy to hear from Reginald, he wasn't as excited as RHM.

"Okay boss, but um... except for giving you the Earth Team report, there's nothing I can do. Sven's in charge of our squad report."

Sven...? RHM opened his eyes. Of course, the report that Sven had given him the day before!

"Give me your report, I'll take care of Sven's report," said the cyborg as he left the room.

He returned to his office quickly, regretting not having read his lover's report earlier. Yet the day before, he had promised Sven that he would read it and get back to him, but he had been drowning in work and had had to leave his reading aside.

He took the document and began to leaf through it, eagerly but also with great pleasure. Everything was well detailed and organized, the reading was clear and meticulous, and in one reading RHM already had an idea of the units he could mobilize and the strategy to address.

He smiled, feeling the motivation and hope coming back to him.

He was going to save Reginald.


	4. Chapter 4

The pencil scratched the paper quickly. Sven was good at taking notes, capturing information and transcribing it so that it could be used again later. This was usually his role in meetings: to keep quiet, to listen, to write down. Of course, he wasn't the only one capable of that, but this time RHM chose him especially for this new strategy meeting.

The news had come earlier in the day: the Earth Team had located Reginald, who was being transferred to a secret government prison. The convoy consisted of dozens of cars of common appearance. Most of them were pickups. Apparently they had tried to camouflage the military vehicles to make it look like a Road Trip in the desert.

Their plan would surely have worked if the Toppats hadn't thought to put spies everywhere. One of them spotted Reginald briefly as he climbed into one of the cars. Apparently his condition was sad to see, and it only took one glance to see his fatigue and bruises.

As leader of the Toppats, the government had probably tried to make him talk under torture ...

"The convoy will arrive in the middle of the night," said RHM, who led the meeting. The prison is untraceable, even with our satellites. It is surely hidden by a camouflage. Based on the information, we have established a perimeter of where it might be. The perimeter is large, we must intercept the convoy before it gets there. Otherwise, we will lose track of it, both because of the night and because of another camouflage."

Harold, a colleague of Sven's who also specialized in information gathering, raised his hand to intervene:

"There have been speculations about what weapons our enemies might have, but it's all very unclear. Should we avoid a frontal attack? That would be the most prudent thing to do.

\- It's only prudent if our enemies know that we are attacking them," replied the cyborg.

The chief observed all the recruits he had called for this meeting:

"This is the plan, he said. We are going to compose an A Team, in charge of attacking the convoy from the front. It will be sent to Earth with the teleporter ray. Team A will be accompanied by Team B, a smaller team that will have to dodge the battle and bypass the convoy, in order to infiltrate the vehicles and free Reginald. We must imperatively take advantage of the surprise effect, it will be our best asset".

Everyone nodded their heads, seeing nothing wrong with the plan... except Sven, who as usual forgot his manners and spoke without permission:

"Wouldn't it be better to send only the B team and forget about frontal combat? We could create a diversion with something else, something that wouldn't directly endanger our comrades?"

Harold nodded, happy to see they had the same idea, while other Toppats frowned. It was when he was shot in the eyes that Sven realized that his intervention could be perceived as impertinence, and he looked down with embarrassment.

RHM, however, took some time to think about the proposal. All the ideas were good to consider:

"What could be diverting enough to give our team time to intervene? The problem is that we need to send a team, no matter what the plan is. And we have only one way to send that team to Earth: the teleporter ray. But this ray is conspicuous, our enemies will see it directly. So we might as well make it look like we're attacking them from the front. The government will think that we are attacking them by surprise, without suspecting that the purpose of the maneuver is to create a diversion to allow certain Toppats to slip out of the fight and deliver Reginald."

Sven raised his eyes, attentive to his explanations. He nodded his head, understanding the arguments and having nothing to say about the moment.

They then discussed the composition of the teams, as well as the place and time at which the operation would take place. When the meeting ended, everyone knew what they had to do, and they left to complete their task.

Sven stayed in the room, scribbling down his final notes, then reading everything again to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, wanting to take advantage of the fresh ideas. Nevertheless he was interrupted when he felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him jump violently.

His start surprised RHM, who was the one who had approached him.

"C-Chief, you' re still here? the younger one wondered.

\- And you too. Take a break before continuing your tasks.

\- Of course, I just want to make sure that I've written everything down..."

His superior had a slight smile, came to take off his hat to caress his head:

"You're doing a good job, I'm not worried."

Sven became more red, not being able to hold the older man's gaze any longer. Amused, RHM decided not to bother him anymore and gave him his hat before walking away, but he stopped when Sven stopped him:

"Chief, I'm... I'm sorry for my intervention, I shouldn't have questioned your decision."

The cyborg looked at him, intrigued:

"Yes, you were right to do it. My decisions aren't always right, I can make mistakes, and debates allow me to find better solutions. The only thing I blame you for is that you intervened without permission, but it's your impulsive side that does that."

Sven puffed up his cheeks:

"I'm not impulsive!" he exclaimed.

RHM smiled maliciously:

"Suddenly raising your voice at your boss, isn't that impulsive in your opinion?"

Understanding his mistake, the blond man bit his tongue, crossing his arms, seemingly sulking. This snatched a laugh from the cyborg, who returned to him, only to bend over and come naturally to take a kiss from him. He perceived a hiccup of surprise on the part of Sven, and when he stood up he had the pleasure of seeing the youngest who was blushing more and more.

"Ahah...I guess I'm impulsive myself sometimes~" joked the chief.

But their little game was interrupted by a clearing of the throat. Both turned their eyes to the entrance of the room, to see Hanz standing in the doorway. Immediately Sven looked down, pretending to concentrate on his notes to hide his discomfort, while RHM seemed no more embarrassed to have been caught in the act.

"Hanz, what's wrong? asked the cyborg as he approached his friend.

\- ... I've come to ask for instructions, to find out how the meeting went.

\- You didn't need to come, I would have come to see you.

\- I doubt it, you looked busy."

Sven nibbled his lip as he felt Hanz's gaze on him, and he wouldn't let go. RHM shrugged:

"I think I can give myself a little break before I come to see you, don't you? Let's go to my office."

He invited him to follow him, wishing above all to keep Hanz away from his young lover, whom he saw becoming anxious. Hanz, who found it difficult to detach his gaze from the blond man, an intrigued gaze that didn't please Right very much.

They left the room, heading for the office, but RHM tensed up when the other spoke:

"So it's true, you replaced Reginald with that kid?

\- Sven is not a 'kid'. He's younger than us, but he's an adult.

\- He's not even 30 years old, he's a kid. Do you like young kids now, or was he just easier to approach than the others?"

Right's voice became more cold and annoyed:

"My relationship with him is none of your business. Don't take your frustration out on me."

Hanz grimaced and looked away:

"...Sorry, it's true that it was indiscreet. But seriously, if we bring Reginald back, what are you going to do? This kid seems to really like you, and not just as a sexual partner."

The cyborg looked worried, hesitant before declaring:

"Right now I want to focus on saving Reg. That's the priority."

Hanz rolled his eyes, clearly showing his disagreement even though he didn't insist.

* * *

The morning and early afternoon continued in an atmosphere that hadn't been there for a long time. Since Reginald's arrest the clan had become more discreet, had reduced the missions. But now that there was a possibility of saving their leader, the excitement had spread to the entire station. The Toppats were rushing from room to room, motivated to move their tasks forward, so that everything would be ready on time.

Sven was surprised, as he hadn't seen so many people in the corridors in a long time. But it warmed his heart to find such an atmosphere in the clan. In the last few weeks, everyone had seemed downhearted. But this rescue mission brought them new hope.

He arrived at the archive room, entered it and saw Harold sitting at the central table, flipping through documents. He approached and cleared his throat to get his attention:

"Um, Harold?

\- Ah, Sven!"

His comrade raised his head and smiled broadly. Handsome Harold was one of those naturally jovial, yet unimpressed members. Generally it took a lot to take him by surprise, he was the kind of person who could adapt to any situation.

"You came for the documents? I'll get it out for you right away!"

He was also an easy-going Toppat, a little talkative, but he had the merit of being honest, and above all he had a good background. It was nice to have him as a colleague.

Harold handed him the requested documents. Sven took them, but the other didn't give him time to leave, and immediately exclaimed:

"Actually, you were great during the meeting! Challenging the chief's plan like that was really cool!"

Sven blushed softly:

"Um... It was no big deal. And then it was you who submitted the idea first.

\- I said that the frontal attack was not a good idea but when the chief contradicted me I didn't dare to insist. You had no hesitation in explaining your arguments! Really, I admire you!

\- ... you exaggerate... But thank you."

The blond man smiled and Harold laughed and tapped him on the shoulder:

"Ahah, I'm sincere! There are plenty of idiots who say you dared to talk like that because you' re having a relationship with the boss, but frankly I don't believe it! I mean, RHM isn't the kind of person to make such favoritism. He would have listened to anyone's plan, but you're the only one who dared to speak up, and that's something!"

Sven tensed up:

"What....? People really think that...?

\- Yeah, a whole bunch of jealous people! Poor thing, I understand your misfortune! People as great as us are bound to get jealous!"

The youngest didn't know where to stand, completely embarrassed to receive so much praise from his colleague.

"I'm not sure, Harold... I'm just doing my job...

\- Awesome and modest! Ah, I am so happy to work with you, you are the perfect employee! No wonder the boss trusts you so much! You and I are really the best duo, let's keep up the good work!"

Sven was all red. He nodded, because he knew Harold was too stubborn to understand that "no, he wasn't perfect". Satisfied, Harold smiled at him one last time and then went back to work, letting him go without further insistence.

Relieved, the blond man quickly ran away, his heart pounding. He wasn't used to receiving so many compliments, but at the same time Harold was a positive person who always saw qualities in others - and especially in himself.

Trying to recover from his emotions, he accidentally bumped into the shoulder of another colleague who was coming in the opposite direction.

"A-Ah, sorry!" he stammered before quickly resuming his road.

The colleague, who had frowned when he saw him so embarrassed and red, watched him leave without a word before looking back to the archive room, and especially at Harold, who seemed even more jovial than usual.

“... Well, the chief isn't enough for him..." he criticized.

* * *

Carol put a strand of hair back in place, thinking she'd better tie it up. She was tired of them blocking her view as she tried to do her bookkeeping quietly. She sighed, annoyed, and looked in her desk drawers for a rubber band. But of course she didn't have one. She sighed again and got up, and left the room and headed for Earrings' room. You never know, her comrade might have something to help her out.

But she stopped walking when she heard voices coming from the adjacent hallway. Oh, she wasn't a gossip, she didn't care what others might say, and she was usually on her way. But this time the words they used had captured her intention:

"I'm sure he fucked other people! commented a female voice - which Carol recognized as Joan's. The chef, then Harold... there must be others.

\- Burt no doubt, replied Kayn's voice. They're often together.

\- Do you think so? Burt doesn't seem interested in that kind of thing, and he's too busy with work to waste his time frolicking.

\- Because the boss doesn't have too much work, you say?

\- Mm... okay, you make a good point. But the boss spends a lot of time in his private office, so it's easier for Sven to fuck with him. While Burt's in a shared office, if they were doing anything together it would be noticeable.

\- Maybe..."

There was silence. That's when Carol realized she had held her breath. With her fists clenched, she managed to keep her composure, even though the urge to say a few words made her itch. But it was a blow to make things worse. According to her, if we ignored the rumors, they would disappear, whereas if we paid attention it would get worse.

She blew a good blow to calm herself down, and decided to go on her way as if nothing had happened, finally revealing her presence to the other two and passing them without paying attention to them. Joan and Kayn didn't really react, probably believing that she hadn't heard their conversation - because everyone knew that Carol wasn't paying attention to the others.

Yet the accountant had heard everything, and even though she tried to forget it, she felt her stomach was in knots. She was really hoping it wouldn't get worse, because Sven didn't deserve this...

Should she talk to him about it? It wasn't a good idea. Last time, it seemed to upset him. He was very sensitive, and that was understandable. The Clan was a family, and to know that this 'family' was talking behind his back was too hurtful.

She sighed for the umpteenth time, hoping that Reginald's return would improve the situation. Maybe that would put an end to all these rumors, although she didn't believe in them too much.

* * *

Sven sighed deeply, exhausted but relieved. He had finished his last file and dropped it off at the armory. It was his last task and he was very happy about it. Now all he could look forward to was taking a shower and trying to take a nap. The plan would take place in just a few hours, he wanted to be in shape even if he wasn't part of the teams going to the field.

RHM was part of the A-team, the one that would fight at the front. His cyborg abilities would probably make it easier for him to stand up to their enemies, and his status as a new leader would make him the preferred target. But even though diversion was his goal, Sven's throat was tied just by imagining that he might be injured.

He shook his head, trying to dispel that thought. He shouldn't make himself sick with worry. RHM had been on dangerous missions many times before and he had always gotten away with it... except for his fight with Henry Stickmin, which had left him badly injured. The clan had been forced to call in a scientist, Dr. Vinschpinsilstien, who made his robotic additions.

“... Damn..."

Sven passed a hand over his face. He really needed to take his mind off things, before he had an anxiety attack. As soon as he entered his room, he took off his hat and jacket. However, he had just started to open his shirt when someone knocked on his door.

Intrigued, not accustomed to being picked up directly from his quarters, Sven clumsily closed his chemise so as not to welcome his visitor with his shirt off. He came to open the door, glanced down the corridor, and was surprised to meet Hanz's gaze. Of course he quickly became uncomfortable remembering that morning.

"Uh... Mr. Hanz, can I help you?

\- I'm not disturbing you?

\- ... well, I was going to take a break, but otherwise not. Do you need anything?"

He opened the door a little more so he wouldn't seem too rude to hide behind it.

Hanz looked at him at length, noticed his poorly buttoned shirt that let the white skin on his neck show through. Nevertheless he made no comment and looked him in the eyes again:

"I don't need anything. But I wanted to congratulate you, I was told about your speech at the meeting".

Sven didn't hide his amazement. That Harold gave him a compliment wasn't so surprising, his colleague was a nice person who had the easy compliment. But from Hanz? It was incredible, almost impossible. He blushed in spite of himself, because he always found it hard to hide his embarrassment.

"I...Thank you, but it was nothing...

\- On the contrary. You've probably heard this before, but it's very important to have people like you giving their opinions. We have too many inactive people in the clan."

Sven didn't know what to say. He rubbed his neck and looked away:

"I don't think I'm particularly 'active' ... I try to do what I think is right for the clan, like everyone else. Everyone has something to contribute.

\- Everyone has a role to play, but some Toppats don't take it seriously and expect their work to be taken care of for them. They prefer to let others do it, and if a mistake is made they can avoid their responsibilities. Whereas you, on the other hand, have no hesitation in doing your job and giving your opinion, even if you make mistakes. That's remarkable, and I don't say that lightly, so please accept this compliment because I never pay it to those who don't deserve it."

The younger one observed his comrade and biting his lower lip, not knowing where to stand, but trying to look good anyway.

"O-Okay, he stammered.

\- That's good. And I'm counting on you to support RHM, he needs someone like you by his side, at least until Reginald is back."

Sven tensed up a little, but nodded his head as Hanz looked worried:

"Mm... Besides, I'll have to talk to him about that...

\- ... Talk to him about what?"

Hanz looked at him hesitantly, before looking left and right to check that there was no one around. He lowered his voice:

"After the rescue mission, I'd like to ask RHM to keep command of the clan.

\- What? I... Why? Isn't Reginald in the best position to give us orders?

\- I respect Reginald, and he is a very good friend. But as a leader, I think RHM brings us more. He has good ideas, authority, and he's brave. He has the qualities of a leader, while Reginald... Reginald is smart, but too cowardly. I think he would be better suited to assist RHM than the other way around."

Sven wasn't sure:

"...Being a leader is a big responsibility... and I don't think RHM likes the role. Maybe he's a good leader right now because he hasn't been for a long time, but if this situation drags on he might crack under the pressure, I think."

He thought the older man would be upset with his answer, but he opened his eyes when, for the first time, he saw Hanz offer him an amused smile. He had never seen him smile before, especially so gently!

"I enjoy talking with you Sven. It's nice to be face to face with someone who isn't afraid to assume his disagreement."

He stepped towards him, stepped into the room, and Sven held his breath. Again he didn't know how to react, the situation seemed surreal to him, and his face became even redder when Hanz tousled his hair:

"Right is lucky to have you. I hope he doesn't make the mistake of replacing you."

At his words, Hanz stepped aside, turned around and disappeared into the hallway. Sven was speechless, his heart beating, but he didn't know how he was supposed to feel. Hanz had embarrassed him, and hearing him compliment him in this way had pleased him. But... the mention of Reginald, and the possibility that RHM could replace him... All of this made his joy fall back and give him a heart-warming hug.

He closed the door of his room, his eyes moist, but a hand passed over his face. He was tired... yes, the only reason he was so sensitive, the only reason he was sad, was just because he was tired.

He just needed a little rest, and it would get better. He was sure he would...


End file.
